When the pew is empty

Rabbi Ammos Chorny, Beth Tikvah

For many Jewish baby boomers, the dream was simple but profound: to build vibrant synagogues, educate children in the richness of Jewish tradition, and hand down a spiritual legacy that would resonate across generations. And yet, today, as they sit in synagogue pews that are far less full than they once were, many wonder: Where did we go wrong?

The answer is not in failure, but in change. Profound social, technological, and generational shifts have transformed how people seek meaning, community, and identity. Much like the world of television has moved from three national networks to a thousand streaming options, the spiritual world has fragmented into countless paths and platforms.

Younger Jews are not necessarily rejecting Judaism, but they are often reimagining it. They find connection in podcasts and Instagram Torah, meditation circles, and social justice work. They attend virtual services when they attend at all. Many build personalized rituals rather than joining long-established institutions. For a generation raised on digital choice and algorithmic curation, Judaism must now compete not only with other religions but with every scroll and swipe on their phone.

…we may find that Judaism in this age of fragmentation holds the seeds of unexpected renewal.

This is not a crisis of belief but of belonging. The old model of synagogue life was built on obligation; the new model must be built on meaning. Our children and grandchildren are still asking spiritual questions. The challenge is that they are not always turning to rabbis or synagogues for answers. But there is hope.

Jewish institutions that are thriving today are those that have embraced this era of fragmentation. They offer diverse entry points: Torah study over coffee, Havdalah hikes, parenting groups infused with Jewish wisdom, and yes, meaningful digital content that speaks to real-life concerns. They prioritize relationships over membership, authenticity over performance, and values over programs.

For baby boomers who poured their hearts into building the Jewish world, there is still an important role to play: not only as donors or guardians of tradition, but as bridge-builders. You can model what it means to stay curious, to meet your grandchildren in their spiritual language, to learn alongside them in the search for a Judaism that speaks to their souls.

Yes, the pews may be emptier. But the search for meaning is alive and well. If we listen deeply, adapt boldly, and welcome widely, we may find that Judaism in this age of fragmentation holds the seeds of unexpected renewal.

As the New Year approaches, we are reminded that renewal is not only possible but essential. Let us not wait for another generation to ask why the legacy faltered. Instead, let us commit, individually and collectively, to reimagining our institutions, investing in relationship centered community, and welcoming innovation with open hearts. The time is now to recommit to the spiritual future of our people, ensuring that the sacred trust passed to us will continue to inspire, uplift, and endure.

Shanah Tovah uu’metukah!